by Maia Starr
We arrived back in our suite, and I made my way to the kitchen to grab us some water when suddenly she grabbed my hand and raised her brows suggestively.
“I liked what you said,” she said with throaty tone. With her fingers still intertwined with mine, she began to lead me down the hallway to my master bedroom.
“I thought you might,” I said huskily. “But that’s not why I said it, just so you know.”
“I believe you,” she smiled dismissively and touched her nose against mine before making her way to my lips in what felt like slow motion. We stayed basked in one another’s warmth for just a moment before an intensity began to surge through me.
I pressed her against the wall and kissed her softly, running my hands up her body on both sides. I could feel the curve of her against my palms and I instinctively reached for more. She leaned into my gesture and pushed her pelvis against mine. I could feel myself growing hard as her breaths became more vocal.
I flicked my tongue into her mouth and caught her sticky lips against mine, eager and hungry for the next step but too caught up in her beauty to leave the moment. It was too soon.
My kisses moved from her mouth and around her neck, her short hair tickling my face as I buried myself in her nape. My hands caressed her breasts, and she took her own opportunity
“Aren’t people wonderful?” I said hoarsely, encouraging her hand before lifting her up against the wall and staring into her almond-shaped eyes. “Just when you think you know everything there is to know about a person, another layer is peeled back and you get something like this.”
“Mindless kissing?” she said with a voice that was so overcome with lust, it barely sounded like her.
“No,” I breathed hastily. “Passion. Your passion for intrigue, your passion for…this. Here I thought it was your beauty and intellect that shone brightest about you; now it seems there are even more skills within your repertoire.”
“Stop talking,” she whispered and began to moan as my scales lit up.
For dragons, this was a sign of passion, connection. While others found this to be a show of strength and dominance, it had only ever made me feel vulnerable – embarrassed, even. Yet at this moment, it had never mattered less.
Sarra peeled her dress down and then removed my shirt in a seemingly fluid motion. She ran her hands along my glowing scales, causing them to burst with heat before kissing them softly.
I took her from the wall and made our way over to the bed where I lay her down and finished removing her clothes. The sight of her was so overwhelming, I had to take a step back to marvel at her canvas. I swallowed hard and tried to catch my breath. My pause in our interaction made her sit up with concern.
“Everything alright?”
“Everything is perfect,” I assured her quietly, still gazing down at the peaks of her breasts. I leaned back in and began to kiss them as our bodies connected. She trembled beneath me as I moved in and out of her. I came to wonder whether she’d been with a shifter before and suddenly my statement that I wasn’t the jealous type seemed to come back to crush me.
I pushed the thoughts from my mind and returned my lips to hers, reaching my hand down her stomach and into the most forbidden parts of her as I came in and out of her. Her breaths sped up just as I felt I couldn’t take any more, and suddenly her fear and ecstasy washed over her in a burst of moans and shivers.
When it was over, I collapsed on top of her in the sweaty mess that we had created and showered her with kisses. I couldn’t bear to move from over top of her. Instead, I moved the damp hair from her face and kissed along her jawline and whispered anything I could to her to make her feel special.
It wasn’t that I was being insincere. But I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to do it if she didn’t tell me that she would need the reassurance. I wanted everything to be perfect for her.
She pushed me off with a giggle, and I rolled onto my side to meet her eyes.
“I love you,” I whispered as I touched her face.
She looked startled at the comment, and she seemed to prickle beneath my touch. “That wasn’t love,” she said with a heady laugh. “But it was amazing.”
My eyes bore into her, and I couldn’t help but feel rejected somehow. I knew human feelings weren’t as intense as those for Weredragons, but I was expecting at least some bonding to have happened between us. “It was for me,” I reaffirmed in a somewhat offended tone.
“You barely know me,” she said with some surprise.
“I told you at the party…” I trailed off. “This isn’t a game to me, Sarra.”
She stared at me with studious eyes, and suddenly she softened; she leaned in and kissed me. I wanted to argue the point, but I couldn’t exactly force her to return the sentiment. She curled into the crook of my neck and I wrapped my free wing around us as we lay face to face. “You don’t have to say it back,” I whispered, then smirked. “But one day you will.”
Sarra blushed at the comment, and she traced her fingers along the hair on my chest. “I like you a lot,” she finally offered.
I scoffed in jest and wrinkled my nose at the sentiment. It may have been better if she didn’t say anything at all, I thought. “I like what you’re saying. But it scares me.”
“Why?”
“Because… I really like you. I never dreamed it would be this easy to like someone or feel connected to them. You…” She trailed off, lost in her breathing for several moments before she decided to return to her sentence. “You make me really happy. Which makes me wonder if this was, something else.”
Lines appeared between my brows, and I tilted her chin up to face me. “Like what?”
She pursed her lips in frustration and then shrugged. “I don’t know, Haden. I just feel uneasy about this.”
“Like we’re being played?” I offered.
She gave a single nod and looked up at me once more to see my reaction; to see whether I would judge her. “I thought the same thing,” was all I said.
“I had a weird conversation tonight,” she began, but seemed to think better of it, and her lips snapped shut.
“You’ve got my interest,” I said with a bemused laugh. It looked like she would be telling me about Zaphira after all. I traced my fingers along her arm to tickle it lightly, hoping to put her at ease with me. She thinned her lips and closed her eyes, thinking on it. When her eyes opened, she was ready to talk.
“At first I thought this was a random choosing,” she started slowly.
“It was,” I said honestly. “I was never told to choose you. I wasn’t lying when I said–”
“The connection, right,” she interrupted in a hushed tone. “But see, I was told to get your attention.”
My heart sank.
“I see.”
“By Zaphira,” she offered genuinely, then shrugged. “Usually she’ll tell the girls to try and seem approachable, blah, blah, blah. You know, try and make the choosings go smoothly and put the best matches together. I thought that’s what she was doing. Then after tonight, I thought maybe…” She paused and then hastily corrected, “I mean, obviously this was a political move.”
“Right,” I agreed. “But?”
“But it was brought to my attention that… there’s something I’m supposed to be looking into? I think it might be what you had mentioned earlier. The mystery I was going to love?”
“Rerdig,” I confirmed.
So Zaphira was onto me. I smiled internally at this and couldn’t believe my luck. It looked like I would be able to get Sarra to look into this, after all. This way I would be able to send back whatever information I chose to Riddell. This was, in fact, much easier than I thought it was going to be.
“I think you’re right. I’m a little surprised she knows about him, though. Not even all of the Koth know what happened.” It was true. While her knowledge of the situation, or of a situation, certainly worked in my favor, I was still surprised she had wind of it at all. “Zaphira is nothing if not percepti
ve, I suppose.”
“I’m not sure she even knows, really,” she offered genuinely. “She just gets these hunches and just sort of rolls with it.”
“Or makes you roll with it,” I teased.
“Right?” She giggled. “It seems brilliant to outsiders, but really she just tends to stumble into these things.”
“Still, if that’s her hunch, then she has amazing instincts. So…” I started, my brows rising ever so slightly. “You want to meet him?”
“I think I have to.”
“Tomorrow then, late. And don’t tell anyone you’re going, not even Zaphira.”
She peered at me shyly for a moment and then leaned in for one last soft kiss for the evening. “That I can do.”
Chapter Seven
Sarra
Sex had a way of changing things between a couple, or whatever Haden and I were considered these days.
We’d spent the morning making love again and the rest of the day was devoted to my work. We were in a precarious position, Haden and me.
Zaphira had told me he had something worth looking into, which I could only assume was the locked up traitor. In reality, I wasn’t sure if Zaphira really cared what the drama had been between the Koth and Rerdig, or if she was simply on a mission to find her son.
It wouldn’t have been the first time we’d delved into the mysteries of Udora to find him, though she would never say as much. I scrolled through various documents on a handful of tablets and signed off on
“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he whispered, his hushed tone sending tingles through every inch of my body.
I looked up at him without moving my head and continue to sign the digital documents. Still, he lingered there. “I’m working,” I whispered back with a smile. The room was filled with a handful of other dignitaries whose attention we were quickly catching. “And you should be, too,” I giggled.
“Ah, but could anything compete with the alluring curve of your neck, your raven hair, or… ah, but I've said too much in this all too public space. Though if you'd bless me with another visit, I would love to whisper the rest in of your delicate ears...”
“You love yourself,” I said wryly. “You must study your thesaurus every night hoping for the chance to burst into a monolog.”
He wrinkled his nose at me and kissed my forehead, never once denying it.
“Well, you certainly have quite the way with words, don't you? You may just be in luck for some one-on-one whisper time with me later tonight, though you now have me all geared up for a boatload of compliments. I'd start your list now, were I you.”
“Is that right?” he dared.
“Yes, it is. I know you'd hate to see me disappointed. I pout. I'm snippy. It's a bad scene.”
The room seemed to watch us with fascination but said nothing when he finally left our company. I didn’t know whether to feel proud of myself or simply embarrassed. I wasn’t usually the type to bring romances to work.
The rest of the day wore on in long blurs of time. Time that I wasn’t with him or pursuing the prisoner.
As per his instruction, I didn’t say anything to Zaphira. Nothing more than telling her I had a lead, at least. I couldn’t very well send her back to Earth with no news.
I desperately wanted her to be happy with the work that I was doing on this mission. I wanted to find her son and renew her faith in our alliance. I wanted her to like and approve of my match with Haden beyond political appearance. I wanted to make her proud of me. And this time, I thought, I was going to do it.
Haden told me we wouldn’t be able to head to the old country until well past midnight. He said the prison was kept under wraps for a reason, and that even the chosen one of a Koth advisor wouldn’t be welcome in their private lands.
My heart thumped with excitement all day thinking that I would finally get to see the old world he had spoken so fondly of. I got as much of my work done as possible during the day and well into the evening. I returned home to make dinner for Haden, and then before I knew it, it was time.
The old world was well past the mossy fields we used for research. In fact, it was hours away. Three hours, to be exact. The area was made up of well-preserved stone homes, large enough to... well, to fit a dragon in. It was strange to see all the elegant stone buildings in such decay. Many of them had intricate, carved designs that seemed to flow from one building to the next in perfect unison, with large pillars and fences. Yet the majority of them were unkempt; some were even crumbling.
Haden led me to a stone building he called the tower. He unlatched the massive door as discreetly as possible, his furtive manner making me nervous even when I knew we were the only souls around for miles.
Still, I couldn’t help but wonder why a high-caliber prisoner like Rerdig would have been left alone in his prison without any guards nearby.
Candles and torches lit up the venue with a passionate blaze. The flames on the giant torches flickered as the doors rushed open before the fire found a comfortable standing once more.
The great hall was hardly archaic. Legendary dragon tales lined the walls in the form of beautiful tapestries that told their story. The display depicted full dragons and partial shifters gathered together in the mossy fields, a vision of other planets off in the background. A female dragon of white took center stage in the stitched illustration. I had never heard of a female dragon up until this point.
The female was ghostly white. Looking up at her, I could imagine the females somehow more frightening than their male counterparts. I imagined their frail stature and wide, watchful eyes. I imagined the way one might regard me with a hiss or with silent hatred for the way my body felt around their protectors. ‘That’s not for you,' I imagined one saying to me with a knowing tone as I stood close to Haden.
The legend of how shifters came to be had been lost to time. The Weredragons say they had always been, while humans say a woman must have mated with a dragon and created a powerful shifter hybrid. I was puzzled thinking of the first human female who had her way with a fully formed dragon and why she would ever think that was a good, or safe, idea.
In fact, I cringed at the thought.
My eyes drew away from the display and lingered a while longer on the intricate architecture of the castle. The hall stretched on forever. There were six towers that lined the outside of the fortress we were in, with one large, black, stone tower that sat in the middle of the courtyard.
There were high walls that circled the fortress to ensure absolute protection. It looked more like the garrison was set up for war than a small private prison.
“Down here,” Haden whispered, and I eagerly followed him down a damp corridor. He held a torch in front of him, and after a long distance, we arrived at a series of small cells. The cells were so tiny that the dragon barely had room to lay down.
The Weredragon shifter inside was small in stature, smaller than most of the dragons, who boasted extreme height and breadth. His wings were long and thin; trailing on the ground behind him. The scales across his face looked ragged, somehow, and he wore white prison garb that made the orange scales on his skin seem illuminated somehow. He had fangs even as a partial shifter, and long red hair.
His small, yellow eyes followed me across the room, and I couldn’t help but study him and wonder if there were any way to tell if he looked like Zaphira.
Surely, she would have mentioned his curious eyes or the bright scales he had. But when I thought back on it, she’d given no information about his appearance at all. Maybe she didn’t even know.
“Hello,” I offered as I approached the cell door. “My name is–”
Before I could finish the sentence, Haden put his hand on my arm and shook his head. No names, got it. I breathed audibly and looked back at Rerdig. “I’m a reporter.”
The shifter’s face was then overcome with an expression I couldn’t make out. Worry, maybe? His eyes shifted to Haden, who nodded to the scared creature, and then he turned his attentio
n back to me.
“I’m Rerdig,” he said with a young, callow tone. “Have you come to break me out or just hear my story?” he asked curiously.
“Well,” I shrugged and looked up at Haden. “Maybe both, actually.”
Haden cleared his throat with surprise but said nothing. I hadn’t told him that part of my plan, but I wasn’t about to back down now.
“Please, tell me why you’re in here. There may be something I can do to help you get out of here.”
The orange dragon looked around nervously and gripped the bars in front of him with his hands; long fingers with prominent claws white from the pressure he extended toward his cell.
“Go ahead,” Haden instructed gently.
“There was a fight in the Koth counsel. There’s a traitor in our midst.”
My heart dropped out at the sentiment. Zaphira was right. I leaned in as close as I could possibly get and furrowed my brows. “Do you know who?” I asked.
“No. But they’re said to be starting a rebellion. They want to overthrow the Koth and take over as rulers.”
“So it’s a group of rebels, not just one? Do they actually have the power to do that? The Koth is quite the force to overthrow.”
He bit his lip and then shrugged helplessly. “They have a great force behind them.”
“What’s their problem with how the Koth rules?” I asked, begging my mind not to forget a single detail, as Haden insisted I not bring a recording device or tablet to write on.
“Well, you, to be honest.”
“Be specific,” I said, all business. “Literally me, or humans?”
“Humans,” he relented. “They think you have stringent rules about choosing ceremonies, for one. They want to go back to choosing who they want.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. I hated that argument on behalf of shifters. They said we were trying to take over Udora when all we were trying to do was help them. The downfall of the human race, I supposed. Wanting to help.
